Archives for November 2017

Betsy Devos sucks. We all know it. It’s not even an opinion at this point; more just a general fact. Even republicans tend to agree. She’s astoundingly unqualified (as is most of Trump’s recent new hires). She has zero experience working in the public school system, and of course, didn’t send her own children to one.

She believes that children should have the right to pack heat at school, in the event that a bear should happen to attack the halls and classrooms. She’s a hardcore advocate for providing government funding to private schools that discriminate against students of the LGBT+ community, because evidently parents should have the right to choose whether they send their kid to school with a gay kid.

Seriously, she sucks eggs. That’s pretty much old news at this point. Devos is slick though. Just when you think she’s gotten as monumentally shitty as possible, she says “hold my beer.”

Recently, I wrote a piece on the overall shittiness of student loans and their companies. Long story short, they eat you alive and bury you in crippling amounts of debt— all for a degree that you most likely won’t be able to put to use in our shitty economy these days.

“She’s ignorant. She’s unqualified, and she’s greedy as fuck, right up there with the rest of America’s political system.”

Student loans have never been an ideal system, but Obama tried his best to cushion the blow. Obama implemented two memos that were intended to help protect student loan borrowers. Before these memos, default student loans were basically sent to the highest bidder; whoever was the very best at collecting on debt. Meaning that whichever company harassed a student into paying the most was awarded with more contracts to harass more students.

The Obama memos encouraged borrowers to keep a good track record of their payments and awarded the contracts to the companies with a strong history of helping the borrower. Basically, he stopped rewarding the sharks in the water and started rewarding the companies that showed leniency, and the borrowers that were doing their best to stay on track. This helped give borrowers more options, transparency, and an overall better experience, which led to less loan defaults.

Recently, Devos rolled back these memos. She made it like it used to be, where the loan contracts wound up with whoever was the best harasser at the time. Jerking the rug out from under thousands of student loan borrowers and throwing them right back under the bus that these memos had been protecting them from. The rollback of these memos once again ripped away the borrower’s options and threw them back to the wolves, so that whoever would squeeze the most blood out of the turnip, got the gig. It’s taken away any incentive for a company to work with the student. Due to Obama’s memo, the way that a company treated the borrower was a big deciding factor in whether they landed the contract. Now that incentive is gone again and there’s just no real reason for the company to be nice or helpful.

Devos’s reasoning for this was to “limit the cost to taxpayers” and “increase customer service and accountability.” To Devos, a student loan recipient just can’t be held accountable or responsible unless there’s a pack of wolves at their door and their checks are being garnished every week. Apparently, according to Devos, not being able to buy food or pay rent is the best possible incentive to get those loans paid off; and fast.

Her excuse, that the memo she’s reversing limits costs to taxpayers, doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. Taxpayers are in no way affected by the Obama-era memos. They did not raise their taxes or affect their taxes in any form. The only thing that affects the taxpayer is when the student loans are defaulted on and the loans aren’t being paid back. Then and only then will a student loan affect American’s precious tax dollars.

Considering that the memos implemented by Obama were successful at increasing the percentage of student loan pay back, and at decreasing the percentage of default, Devos’s reasoning behind this rollback holds no merit other than a huge shout-out to big business. She may as well grab herself a megaphone and a sandwich board and scream from the rooftops, “We care a shitload more about what big business companies can do for us than we do about you not being able to afford food thanks to crippling student loan debt!”

Moral of the story here: Betsy Devos gives absolutely ZERO fucks about you, your debt, your ability to pay off that debt, or what basic survival necessities you will be forced to skimp on to keep from defaulting. Not one single shit is given from that dreadful excuse of a woman. Which brings us back to our original point of the story; Betsy Devos sucks big, fat eggs.

She’s ignorant. She’s unqualified, and she’s greedy as fuck, right up there with the rest of America’s political system. She seems to forget— a large portion of the American taxpayers that she claims to be saving money for, are in fact, student loan borrowers. The tax payers and the borrowers are very much one in the same. The very people that she’s supposedly “going to bat for” are the ones that she is throwing to the wolves. By rolling back these provisions, she’s hurting everyone; the taxpayers, the borrowers and everyone in between. The only thing she’s “helping” is the lining of her own pocket.

If a student can’t pay back their loan, then that responsibility falls back on the American taxpayer. All she’s succeeded in doing is make it more difficult to pay back those loans. So, if you happen to be one the few left that is sitting around thinking, “Well hell yea, ole Betsy is doin’ us a solid. Ought not make it so easy on them damn millennials anyhow.” Think again, my friend. Because when they suddenly don’t have the previous options anymore, their debt is falling on your head, Jim Bob. No favors here for you. Enjoy paying off that millennial’s debt, and be sure to write ole Betsy a big ole thank you card.

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Andrea is a freelance writer based out of Kentucky. She is the mother to a 3 year old little girl and step-mother to a 6 year old boy. She’s been married to her husband and best friend for 5 years. She enjoys fishing, camping, hiking and the occasional glass of wine by a bonfire.

I am many things. I’m 25, I’m white, I’m a female-identified human. I’m from Texas, I’ll eat Pad Thai any time of day. I write, I act, I am heterosexual. I have two siblings, I don’t watch Game of Thrones. I do watch Outlander (and I am unashamed).

My eyes are green, I played left midfield on my high school soccer team. I don’t know how to write code, but I do know how to drive stick shift. I’m a Unitarian Universalist, my parents are still married, I wear a size 8 ½ shoe. I was sexually assaulted when I was a kid, my birthday is in the summer.

My Unitarian Universalist-ness means I go to church on Sundays, but feel the need to let people know I’m not Christian, though I have great respect for Rabbi Jesus (as my minister says). My shoe size is such that strappy sandals are not my thing. I’m a heterosexual woman, so I have a male partner. My parents are still married, which means I go to one house on holidays.

I have two siblings, and one of these siblings gives me shit for not watching Game of Thrones. The other was my inspiration for playing soccer. I drive a Mazda with a standard transmission, and I wear green to bring out my eyes. My birthday is often the hottest day of the year. I don’t engage in casual romance or sex, because I was sexually assaulted as a kid. Many people are adverse to casual sex/relationships. Childhood sexual trauma is not the only reason, but I’ve identified it as mine.

It’s taken a lot of work to integrate what happened to me into my larger identity. It’s as much a part of me as my eye color or how many siblings I have. It still takes work to remember that, and to stay standing some days, especially when sexual assault is in the public conversation, as it is right now.

“Boundaries are something that most kids learn in elementary school. When I was in elementary school, I was coping with the aftermath of being assaulted.”

What happened completely shaped how I see sex, romance, objectification, men, the patriarchy, and how I fit in to all of that. I was five. My brain didn’t have enough in it to contextualize my experience, so upon it I built a series of very unhealthy assumptions about myself/my sexuality, and how to relate to the world, which led to more negative and non-consensual experiences throughout my childhood and teenage years. When I think about my assault, I often don’t think of the actual event—I think of the series of patterns and thoughts and choices it set off in my life. I could go on, but I won’t. It’s a lot. It’s depressing. The anxiety is rising in my stomach as I write this.

Dating/sex has and will always be fraught for me, though I’m just now realizing to what extent. It’s fraught for everyone—romance and sex are parts of our lives that are affected by our most fundamental formations of identity, which are often unexamined and problematic. I have spent innumerable hours of my life talking to friends of all different stripes about these problems. Tinder, Bumble, etc. It all sucks. Breakups are hard. Ghosting is shitty. Fraught! It’s all fraught. And it’s fraught in different and interesting ways for everyone.

This is a little bit of how it’s fraught for me: boundaries are incredibly difficult for me to implement. The concept of boundaries is something I didn’t really learn about or start to work on until I was about 23. Boundaries are something that most kids learn in elementary school. When I was in elementary school, I was coping with the aftermath of being assaulted. Boundaries didn’t mean anything to me. I learned that speaking my needs and desires got me nowhere and nothing, so it’s better to fit my needs and desires to the people around me so as not to create conflict or a scenario in which my needs will, once again, be denied. And if those people’s needs and desires are different than my own, it’s best not to interact with them at all.

So I retreated into myself, only to come out when I felt like it was safe, only sharing what was agreeable, and then not understanding why others would sometimes keep me at arm’s length when I did. I’m learning how to healthily protect myself while not cutting myself off from experiences and other people. I’m trying to connect with others while both setting and respecting boundaries. I’m expressing my needs and desires more and more. I’m doing the best I can.

This has meant, that for me, casual sex and dating has largely been impossible. It’s deeply unappealing on many levels, both superficial and fundamental. Due to boundaries not being secondhand for me, and also because I’m a sensitive person in general, I’ve developed a way of relating to people that is very intense. I’m sort of all in or all out. Going on a date with a stranger from the internet to just “see” if they’d be a fun diversion is something I physically cannot do. Whenever I think that’s what I’m doing, it develops into something deeper. This has ultimately been an incredible blessing, as hardships often turn out to be. My relationships, both platonic and romantic, are what I am most grateful for, and my willingness to “go in” with people is why I have them.

After every breakup, my peers have encouraged me to try and be casual. They’ve extolled the idea of our teens/twenties being the “time to go nuts” and “we shouldn’t settle.” I went along with this for a while, feeling increasingly shitty about myself because I couldn’t seem to ever do this. I thought maybe I just wasn’t cute. I thought, maybe I’m a coward and I have to push myself to come out of my shell. I thought there was some kind of collective joke that I was missing. I thought a lot of things, and none of it was ever productive or positive.

What I’m here to say is that there is no right way to do sex and romance as a survivor. For other survivors it may look very different. For other survivors, emotional intimacy may be impossible. Physical intimacy may be a language that is easier to speak.

I’m also here to say that survivors, especially survivors of childhood sexual trauma, are often erased in all these conversations about modern dating. Millennials and their online dating! Millennials and their casual relationships! Millennials are just eating avocado toast and getting wasted and DOING IT! Hashtag hashtag. Just go on the Tinder date, they said. It will be fun, they said. My friends, it’s not fun for me. And it’s not fun for you either, most of the time. Who are these pronouncers of what we are like? Who decides? The copywriters at Buzzfeed or Brother or Cosmo?

You are only wasting your youth if you think you are. And I am not. I’m taking control of my life for the first time in 20 years by fully accepting myself and the world in which I exist. I’m not forcing myself to live our cultural idea of a “healed life.” I am healing, and my life looks like what it looks like. I “get out there” and “come out of my shell” in many ways.

You are never too young to take care of your heart. The time to “go wild” is whenever the hell you want, however the hell you want.

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Natalie Houchins is a graduate of Northwestern University, with
degrees in Theatre and Gender & Sexuality Studies. She is a writer and
actress based out of LA, who is perennially homesick for Austin, TX.
She currently spends her free time hiking, watching Battlestar
Galactica and resisting the Trump administration. For more information, visit her website: www.nataliehouchins.com.

Earlier this year an 8 year old boy committed suicide. He was bullied relentlessly. Two days prior to his death he was found unconscious on the school bathroom floor, left for dead after an assault. He was tortured daily. Picked on, threatened, and attacked. His parents have recently filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Cincinnati Public Schools for allowing their school system to crumble into a place where a 3rd grader wants to die. According to the lawsuit, Carson Elementary School has covered up at least 14 other instances of severe bullying within their school system: even going so far as to destroy video evidence in an attempt to cover their asses.

Just this year, a mother found her 10 year old son hanging from his closet. He left a note with a list of names, all of his bullies, writing, “you’re why.” The day before he hung himself, he came home and told his mother that it had been the worst day of his life. Yet evidently, no school officials were aware that the boy was being bullied to the point of suicide.

A teenage girl in my own town has been subjected to bullying, harassment, and even death threats. She’s been sent snapchats where groups of girls called her a whore. She’s had notes left in her locker telling her to kill herself. She’s been the topic on dozens of social media threads where her classmates are wishing her dead. She’s been ostracized and shunned by her classmates.

She’s choosing to miss her senior prom because she knows that she has no allies there. She sits out on field trips or anything outside of her regular classes that she has to be in. All because she knows that nothing good will come of it. She doesn’t even have anyone to sit with at this point. Even certain teachers single her out and pick on her now. Her senior year has effectively been ruined. Now she just waits silently for graduation day.

“Children are killing themselves. Eight and ten year old boys are committing suicide. Literally, kids are losing their lives because people are allowed to be fucking mean. “

Her parents have been to the school over and over again. They’ve met with the teachers. They’ve met with the principal and superintendent. At one point, when she received the handwritten letter in her locker telling her that everyone wanted her to kill herself, the principal of the school told her mother that they believed she wrote it herself, in a last ditch attempt to gain some attention and ruin the others girls’ lives. She actually got in trouble for it.

When her parents demanded to know why her bullies weren’t receiving any repercussions for their actions, the principal told them that these girls were good kids and were on the fast track to a good college. The principal didn’t want to ruin their lives based on some silly choices they made in high school.

Let that sink in. This group of girls was ruining my friend’s life. She was scared to go to school, but they didn’t suffer any consequences because the school system didn’t want to ruin their lives. I’m sure it wasn’t any help that most of the girls belonged to school employees.

It finally took the threat of a lawsuit and a few calls to a few higher-ups to get anything accomplished. The group of bullies still never saw any consequences, but the school started holding anti-bully assemblies and set up a bullying hotline for kids to call into anonymously. Basically, a real quick ass covering is what it all amounted to.

Uncontrolled bullying is happening everywhere across our country. Children are killing themselves. Eight and ten year old boys are committing suicide. Literally, kids are losing their lives because people are allowed to be fucking mean.

We’ve all heard the saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” This is bullshit. Words hurt. We all know that words hurt. I know that words hurt. I have been there. I have been the butt of whore jokes because I got the boy that the other girl wanted. I’ve been the one with “Slut” painted across my locker door, because said boy bragged about a bunch of shit that didn’t happen in his car the night he took me out.

I’ve been the one picked on because my house wasn’t nice, because my mom drove an old car and worked three jobs trying to keep her head above water, raising two girls all on her own. After my father committed suicide I was even told, “I’d kill myself too if I had a daughter like you.” That was 10 years ago. I’m 24 years old now, and I can personally tell you: that shit sticks with you. I still remember who said that to me. I still remember the way my face felt as it was falling. I remember the burn in my eyes and nose and throat, trying not to give them the pleasure of seeing me cry.

I could still take you to the very bathroom stall where I hid during lunch and breaks. I probably still have some of the suicide notes I drafted in the back pages of school notebooks; trying to hide them, but still kind of, maybe a little bit hoping that someone would find it and help me. I can still recall the look on my mother’s face when I would try to tell her just how miserable I was. It’s not her fault. Let me make that very clear. I have a good mother. But I had a mother who was drowning herself. She had her own plate full, and she didn’t know what to do other than tell me to try my best to ignore it. She was picked on in high school too.

So it’s now ten years later and I still suffer with self-worth. I refuse to own a bathroom scale because I still remember my cheer coach telling me how fat I looked in my uniform— even though I only weighed 120lbs. Still now, to this very day, if I have a scale in my home, I will obsess over my weight; weighing myself upwards of 20 times a day. I still second guess my outfit before I walk out of my house. Sometimes I even find myself wondering if I really was such a monumentally shitty daughter that my father would rather die than be in my presence. That’s not to say that I haven’t grown since then. I have. I’ve become stronger, and I’ve built a thicker skin for myself. But even at 24 years old, I still carry that with me every day.

Now I have a daughter of my own. She’s only four right now. Most of her time is spent with me. She doesn’t have to worry about bullying just yet. But one day she will. One day she’ll be in the very same school system that my friend is in, the very one that I was in; the one that blames bullying on the victim, protects the bully’s livelihood, and allows a cheer coach to call a student fat – in front of twelve other girls.

If you’ve read much of my work you know that I raise my daughter a bit differently than most. I raise her to be strong-willed and hard-headed. Especially living in the south during the dark days of Trump, she will stick out against the norm. She will be the different one. And I’m terrified that she will be the target. I’m also terrified that I will end up in jail, because I’ll be damned if my child goes through what my friend did, and it’s evident that our school systems nationwide have yet to come up with a solution to the problem.

Instead, they sweep it under an ever-growing rug, with no regard for the consequences the victims are facing; the psychological effects that they’ll be forced to carry with them for the rest of their days. We’re not acknowledging the fact that grown ass adults are allowing our children to suffer. We’re not recognizing any long-term effects on the children that are tortured day in and day out.

Instead of imprinting kindness on our youngest minds, we’re showing them that bullying is in fact okay. We’re letting them see that the most awful, hateful human beings have the most power. I mean, for God’s sake, look at our president. You open up Webster’s and his picture sits beside the definition of bully. We’re living in a world where society is teaching my child that because she’s different, she deserves torturous treatment.

Now, I refuse to teach my child to dilute herself for the comfort of others. At four years old she’s 100 proof, and I intend to keep her that way. I shouldn’t have to tell my child to blend in so that she doesn’t suffer. Instead, our schools and parents alike need to teach our children not to be shitty snot-heads. Instead of sweeping things under the rug for the sake of saving face, we should be blasting our problem like we’re airing out dirty laundry. Start instilling in our children at a very young age that bullying has zero tolerance.

Quit worrying about making sure a bully can get into a good college, and start ensuring that the victims are given justice. Start holding them accountable for their bullshit. Because sticks and stones will break bones, but their words are fucking killing people.

Support Andrea’s writing on our site by subscribing to our newsletter on this link, Subscribe here!

Andrea is a freelance writer based out of Kentucky. She is the mother to a 3 year old little girl and step-mother to a 6 year old boy. She’s been married to her husband and best friend for 5 years. She enjoys fishing, camping, hiking and the occasional glass of wine by a bonfire.

Hey y’all, I know it’s been awhile since I provided any content for you to either approvingly nod at or call bullshit on.

I call everyone else out all the time, but I am also not afraid to admit when I have fucked up. And I have really fucked up.

I impulsively fell in love with this guy who said he wanted to build a life with me. He then bailed via text message. He was under pressure from his family after his relative, who had apparently stalked me, took him to a festival in the woods and screamed personal information about me at him until he promised to leave me.

So bottom line, I’m pretty pissed off and bitter right now, and I’m ready to come back at you full force, unless that guy’s family has me murdered.

This all has been really great for my anxiety.

Today we’re going in on 5 lies countless millennials have absorbed from older generations. I know a lot of people who have struggled, or are personally being tortured by these toxic beliefs right now! I know I’ve wrestled with some existential despair because of the belief that I “wasn’t doing it right,” because I couldn’t make these things true, regardless of how hard I tried.

Let’s Get Started!

You Can Be Anything You Want

If you’re like me, you grew up wanting to be a rockstar-ancient-egyptian-magic-practicing-paleontologist-vampire in a polyamorous marriage to Esmeralda, from the animated Hunchback of Notre Dame Disney movie, and Duncan MacLeod from Highlander. Or maybe you just wanted to be a duck. Or be a basketball player. Or a princess. Or a fireman. Or a doctor. Or an artist.

While it’s ok to tell a 5 year old who thinks they’re gonna be the next Van Gogh that they are gonna make it, at some point you have to get real with your kids about managing expectations. You gotta tell them about bills. We all know a tone deaf person verging on middle age still trying to make it on Broadway. If you’re a millennial, there is a chance your parent kinda lowkey raised you to be that guy.

I’m not saying that unless you come from a well-connected wealthy family who will bankroll your soul quest that you have been priced out of having goals bigger than basic survival. But without the right connections and endless capital on hand, you’re gonna face some serious obstacles you might not otherwise.

The fact of the matter is, you often can’t just be whatever you want. There are often complications, extenuating circumstances, and all kinds of real life issues which can get in the way of you attaining your ideal dreams. Real life is often about compromise and surviving sticky situations.

Sometimes your dreams are just dumb. That’s ok. Having some fantasies in you is good. Not enacting all of them at all times doesn’t mean you are an empty husk of a person.

Going To College Is The Only Path To Success

Like I said, I call bullshit on a lot of things. I’ll also be very honest with you about how I have fucked up. I 100% fell prey to this one. More so than probably anything else on this list, this one has fucked up my entire life.

If you, like me, were a scared mentally ill 18 year old kid, looking to escape a toxic family situation, or just trusted your well-meaning parents, or were just basically a kid and didn’t know fuck about anything, you most likely also ended up going tens of thousands of dollars in debt and wasting roughly four years of your life on a degree you didn’t really need and don’t use.

This one is actually the easiest to break down.

There are a ton of well paying secure jobs that you don’t need a college degree for. You, like me, unquestioningly fell in line with the classicism that had been hammered into your parents.

And by classicism, I mean the idea that there are real jobs and fake jobs. There are jobs and pay grades where you deserve to be treated with basic respect, and your humanity gets to be recognized, and jobs and pay grades where you get a little less of both. Then there are jobs and pay grades where you get none. Your salary and prestige give you humanity points.

People want to get Big Macs, but for some reason they want the people making them to be punished. They want them to starve. They want them to die of treatable illnesses. They want them to know they don’t matter. Hell, even the stress of poverty can fucking kill you.

Between being a respected doctor making 6 figures and having your humanity generally accepted, and being a person in a customer service position who makes peanuts and whose humanity is generally denied, there are all kinds of “respectable” jobs that don’t require a college degree.

Hell, over the summer I went on a date with a nearly 30 year old guy who went to trade school out of high school and is now the boss of an oil refinery. He has a car and house he owns, kids, and a wife he’s in an open marriage with.

I’m only a few years younger than him and have no kids, own nothing, live in a crumbling roach infested hovel, and am like $50K in debt.

I have that degree tho.

If You Don’t Love Your Job You’re A Failure

It would be great if all of our passions and interests were valued under capitalism, in a way where we could focus on them and still afford to eat.

That’s not the world we live in.

Do not judge yourself for failing to live in some unrealistic dream world where we always get what we want.

Sometimes a job is just a job. And there’s no shame in doing what you have to do so you can stay off your parents’ couch.

While I was building my freelance writing jobs up after college, I worked as a dog walker, I lifeguarded at 3 pools, and I worked at a Panera Bread. I didn’t even get a single freelance gig until 9 months after graduation. For the first 5 months I wasn’t even trying to do anything else. I was just on that grind because student loans are real.

I picked up dog shit. A pitbull almost took a chunk out of my leg. I got insulted by shitty rich old women who didn’t want autistic adults to share the pool with them, and got mad at me when I told them that it was a membership based facility, so anyone with a pass could swim there. I scraped bloody tampons off floors. I would bring a huge backpack to work and stuff it full of old bagels and rolls because all my money was going to paying off a parent plus loan. I was sleeping on couches.

Honestly, I’m not really killing it as a freelancer. If I had any real responsibilities, didn’t live in a disgusting row home with two other people, and if the most expensive thing I owned wasn’t a shady third-hand old macbook air, I wouldn’t be selfishly following my dreams either.

Hell, every 3 months I say “fuck this,” and try to learn how to code.

Look, if you are hustling, and you’re surviving even though it’s hard out there, don’t let anyone tell you shit.

We Get What We Deserve

I never believed this, because I grew up believing the universe was actively malevolent, and now I think it’s just indifferent. However, I know a lot of people who seem to be really butthurt by the idea that they deserve better than they have gotten.

I know a lot of people that are deeply angry, because they feel like they are owed a whole bunch of things they haven’t gotten. As if life has handed everyone else a pot of gold, and them, a chamber pot.

The bottom line is, no one innately deserves anything.

You don’t get extra points for being a good person. In fact, shitty people often appear to be rewarded in the cosmic shuffle while good people get untreatable cancer. Look, our president is ridiculously unqualified for his job, a rapist and a Twitter troll. It’s like we are living in some kind of dark propaganda comedy North Korea churned out about the US government. Nothing is real.

No one deserves anything. No one is looking out for you. No one is guaranteed anything. Luck and chance decide most of your life, and put most of its events in motion. If you are like me, even your birth was an accident, and shit has not become any more concrete since. While your birth may not have been accidental, every part naturally born to you is pure chance, and most of your life and personality is incidental.

While you can, and should, fight for what you want, and work smartly toward your goals, that fight and work will not always guarantee the result you intended.

No one owes you anything. Unless you are well connected, no one will hand you anything. Your free spirited friend, that studies Shakespearian literature and lives in a gorgeous loft apartment, and really found themselves in Tamil Nadu last summer on a trip their rich aunt bankrolled, isn’t innately more deserving of happiness and personal growth and exploration than you. They just happened to be born to a family with more money in it. That’s just chance. A lot of things are. There is no deserving in it.

If A Relationship Doesn’t Last Forever It’s A Failure

I promise, this one isn’t just a vehicle for me to vent about my idiot ex-boyfriend. The idiot ex-boyfriend who told me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me impulsively; even though he had to know on some level that it would not be possible— who then outed us to his terrifying Indian family impulsively, and then backtracked instantly under family pressure, and wouldn’t acknowledge that it was fucked up of him to put me in any of those positions emotionally, or the one where his relative stalked me.

It’s definitely not.

To be real though, the idea that all relationships are only valid if they end with the death of at least one of the people involved, and anything else is failure, is insane.

People grow. People change. Sometimes they grow together. Sometimes they grow apart. I would argue that staying with someone you hate forever, and steadily growing more miserable by the day is failure.

I would say that leaving a situation that does not suit you, enrich your life, fulfill you, or is not healthy, even if it is not easy, takes a lot of strength, and is ultimately a personal success.

Of course, if you jump ship on a significant other every time they say something you don’t agree with, or do something you don’t like, or things get tough, you are gonna be through a bae a day, but there is a big difference between small issues and relationship-ending mega-problems.

While if your relationship ends because you cheated, or neglected your partner’s needs, or did something cruel, then that is definitely a failure on your part, a relationship ending in itself is not innately a failure. For the person leaving your shitty nonsense, it’s a win.

A breakup can also be two people being honest with themselves and each other about how they’ve changed and what they need, and are now making constructive positive changes by splitting up.

There is a lot of pressure, traditionally specifically put on women, to get a man and to keep him at any costs. To keep the family together. To use him as a symbol of her own worth, because she alone is not worthy. Hell, being a monogamous couple is held at such a high standard that some people choose that shit over and over again, even if they hate it and it doesn’t work for them. Being in a relationship is not inherently a success. And being single or leaving a relationship or getting left is not inherently a failure.

Girl, fuck that shit. Don’t let them do it to you. Any of these 5 things listed. Don’t buy into any of it at your own expense.

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Isadora Teich is a freelance writer and traveler. They’ve written social media copy, tabloids, news, erotica, opinion pieces, quizzes, have worked on film scripts, and do some ghostwriting from time to time. Isadora lives for artistic experimentation and is working on a novel.